


The Weeping Angel

by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0



Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hugging, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mental Breakdown, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sleepy Cuddles, Sweet Dreams, haha my title is for the wrong fandom, jk this is totally good omens, or is it the right fandom??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0/pseuds/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0
Summary: Crowley finds Aziraphale sad in the bookshop. He knows he has to do something... but what? (don'tworryhefiguresitout)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784653
Comments: 10
Kudos: 152





	The Weeping Angel

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Aziraphale is crying after having held in the breakdown for a while 
> 
> (Truly nothing too bad, I just want to be safe with my warnings :) enjoy)

Crowley didn’t exactly know why he had driven over to the book shop at 8 pm tonight, but he had. He was here, and he was damned if he was going to return to his flat without at least _talking_ to Aziraphale. 

He burst into the shop and felt his heart drop as he heard a thick voice quietly but forcefully say, “We’re closed.” 

He spotted a figure with his back turned to him, facing a perfectly organized shelf.

“Aziraphale?” he asked, his voice soft. 

The man in question tensed and quickly wiped his eyes before turning to face him. “Ah, hello, dear. I’m sorry for the rude greeting, I wasn’t expecting you,” he tried for a smile. His voice was still thick, and slightly shaky. He was obviously working very hard to keep his emotions at bay, and was not entirely succeeding. 

Crowley cautiously proceeded into the store, at a loss for words. 

He had seen Aziraphale cry before, multiple times. There had been even more times when he was sure he was close to tears but the stubborn angel refused to let them fall. And so _so_ many times when Crowley could tell the angel was holding something back, hiding his true feelings under a facade of cheer. He didn’t know if he was good at sensing feelings in general, or just Aziraphale’s. Or maybe Aziraphale was just bad at hiding his emotions. In truth, it was a mixture of all three.

The problem was Crowley never knew what to _do._ He knew Aziraphale was upset, and he knew he should do _something_ but whatever that something was constantly escaped him. 

Aziraphale always knew what to do. When Crowley came to him in an emotional state the angel had helped him without fail. 

“Can I help you with anything?” Aziraphale jolted Crowley out of his thoughts with the mildly passive-aggressive question.

“It appears I should be the one asking you that question,” Crowley’s voice was full of compassion. “Are you alright?” he asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Perfectly,” Aziraphale lied. “What do you need?” he edged into rude territory. 

Crowley didn’t answer. He didn’t have an answer. He continued to slowly approach Aziraphale. 

His yellow eyes stayed fixed on the angel, while his blue ones darted around the shop. Occasionally landing on Crowley, but flitting away just as quickly. Eventually they stopped, focused on a book Crowley was sure had no importance right now. 

He was now close enough that he could clearly see the tears welling in his angel’s eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. 

Crowley watched as, without the angel even so much as blinking, a tear escaped his eye, slowly rolling down his plump, flushed cheek. He took the final steps to the lachrymose man. Slowly, his hand lifted almost of its own accord, aching to wipe the tear away. 

Aziraphale beat him to it, roughly raking a hand across his cheek, removing the offending tear. He turned his face away from the demon, “Crowley…” his voice cracked on the word. He cleared his throat before continuing, “If you cannot tell, I am not in the mood for pleasantries. Please-” his voice cracked again. He took in a shaky breath, still refusing to meet the demon’s gaze.

Before he could continue Crowley quietly asked, “What are you in the mood for, angel?” Aziraphale’s brilliantly blue eyes finally met Crowley’s. They were quite literally dripping with desperation, brightened by the water that clouded Aziraphale’s vision. 

Wordlessly, Aziraphale watched Crowley’s blurred form come closer and closer and closer until he was fully enveloped in… a hug? He just stood there for a moment, stunned out of his despair. 

The hug was loose enough that he could easily break free. It felt like a question. Slowly, he answered. 

His arms wrapped around Crowley’s thin figure, finding that his back was pleasantly warm. Crowley hugged him a little tighter. Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat and he finally let out the sob he had been holding back since before Crowley’s arrival. 

He wept. His fingers gripped the tight fabric that covered Crowley’s back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. One of Crowley’s hands moved to rub soothing strokes up and down his back, while the other cupped his head, lithe fingers gently massaging his scalp. 

Aziraphale pressed his tear-soaked face into Crowley’s chest, silently sobbing, apart from his ragged intakes of breath. He listened to the rhythm of Crowley’s heartbeat. 

Crowley. The wiley demon Crowley. Was currently hugging and consoling a miserable angel. And it didn’t feel wrong. Not at all. It felt wonderful actually, Crowley was quite the hugger. 

Eventually, Aziraphale’s breathing slowed, and the tears stopped streaming down his face. The comforting rhythms of Crowley’s hands and heart had soothed him. 

He pulled back to stare at Crowley. Anxious yellow eyes looked at him through dark sunglass lenses. Aziraphale moved slowly, reaching up and gently removing the glasses. He set them on a bookshelf and returned his gaze to the demon, who’s hands now rested on the angel’s hips. 

They stayed like that, half embracing and looking into each other's eyes, for a while. At least it felt like a while. But then Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut. And he leaned in. 

He was now close enough that Crowley could feel his exhales dancing over his skin. Crowley’s eyes stayed open, even though the angel was so close that he was blurry and distorted. Their noses brushed. And Aziraphale stopped. He just stayed there. So _very_ close. Noses touching, breaths mingled. Until Crowley, very slowly very deliberately, moved _closer._

His nose now rested on Aziraphale’s damp cheek. All he had to do was tilt his head and their lips would meet. But did Aziraphale want this? Would it be ok? Was this an appropriate time? Was he misreading-

Aziraphale erased all of his thoughts with the slightest tilt of his head. Their lips melded together, Crowley’s moving very carefully, Aziraphale’s full of emotion. The angel kissed him so… _purposefully._ So determined. Crowley could taste the salty tears that had fallen on his angel’s lips. The kiss wasn’t rough and it wasn’t heated, but it left both of them breathless. Aziraphale gently sucked on Crowley’s lip as he pulled away. 

Their eyes met for a moment. Crowley looked positively bewildered, and Aziraphale finally looked peaceful. As though he had made a great achievement that he was satisfied with. 

He rested his head on the demon’s chest and wrapped his arms around his wiry figure once more. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. 

Crowley rested one hand on Aziraphale’s soft back and snapped with the other. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes to see the inside of Crowley’s flat. He pulled away to look at Crowley inquisitively. 

“I just thought we could- er... move this to a bed. I mean- cuddling! I mean cuddling. I know your shop has a bed but it’s almost 200 years old so I just thought mine would be nicer, it’s big enough for both of us...” Crowley trailed off awkwardly. 

“That sounds quite nice,” Aziraphale said, his voice raw from crying. 

Crowley took his hand and led him down a dimly lit hall to a room containing one king-sized unmade bed with an impressive golden headboard, a huge black comforter, deep magenta sheets, and at least 20 different mismatched pillows. Some weren’t even pillows, just relatively large stuffed animals that could be used as pillows. 

The demon crawled across the bed, knocking a few pillows off so that Aziraphale would have room. 

Aziraphale looked at the bed, considering everything for a moment, before he slid under the covers. He really shouldn’t have been surprised by Crowley’s actions at this point, he knew the demon was sweet and he obviously cared for him, but this… no no Aziraphale was reading too much into it. Hoping too much. But they _had_ kissed- _No. Stop right there._ Aziraphale scolded his brain. 

The angel snuck a glance at his companion. He was lying on his back, staring at him. He was trying to be sneaky about it but was utterly failing. Aziraphale couldn’t really read him at the moment, but he was too tuckered out to think about it as excessively as he would have normally. Instead, he turned without a second thought and cuddled into Crowley’s side. He felt the demon sigh and snuggle himself closer to the soft, warm angel. 

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s fingers move up to their previous position in his hair, gently flowing through it. He released tension in his body he didn’t even know was there. He breathed in deeply, inhaling Crowley’s scent that surrounded him on all sides. 

He actually fell asleep, in the arms of a demon. He rarely slept in general, but he was definitely exhausted after his breakdown (that he had been holding in for longer than he should have, which also took a toll on his energy levels). And he was so relaxed here, he felt safe, and he knew Crowley was safe as well. His eyes drifted shut and he let himself become unconscious. 

Crowley, on the other hand, did not drift off. Aziraphale hadn’t told him what was bothering him, and that consumed the demon’s brain. He wanted to be fully alert just in case Aziraphale woke up and needed anything. Anything at all. He would be ready. He truly hated to see his angel all worked up and dejected. He would do whatever it took to keep the angel happy. 

With this in mind, he gently ran his fingers through the angel’s fluffy hair. He performed a miracle. One of Aziraphale’s favorites. He had seen him use this trick multiple times before. 

“You will have a lovely dream about whatever you like best,” he whispered, his voice slightly higher than usual, a partial imitation of the man sleeping in his arms. 

The angel wiggled happily in his sleep. “Cruhh…” he mumbled, smiling faintly.

 _Hmm.... that sounds a bit like- best not to speculate._ Some of the first words Aziraphale ever said to him passed through his mind. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could live his life speaking in Aziraphale quotes he had memorized. 

Yes, Crowley would not be sleeping tonight. Not when he was nearly living a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked that please leave a comment or kudos!! It would make my day :) Thank you for reading! <3


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